And she realised this suddenly: all of a sodden sudden.
Yeah. Maybe they never spoke to her upfront because, truly, upfront they considered her … well … plain difficult.
But equally, maybe, they thought she’d be plain difficult because they knew exactly what had happened to her – exactly what had been done to her – over the past ever so long thirteen years.
What’s more, they knew exactly who was responsible.
What’s more, even where directly their hands had not touched her soul, they had culpably allowed those who had gone and done the touching to do so on the very land which – once upon quite a fairy-tale time – they had nominally, supposedly been, sacred-like, entrusted with.
And so her dreams of a different life collapsed in the ash of his glorious fags: the fags and the chips and the lips ever so smart and sly; and the heart he had dragged from her, as dumb promised hand.
And so that’s when she realised how no love from anywhere could ever be trusted any more.
And so that’s when she decided who her real friends really were.
And so that’s how she decided exactly how she would proceed.